


when aries glows

by minhoscallousedhands



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 02:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5610982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minhoscallousedhands/pseuds/minhoscallousedhands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>part of 12 days of minewt: december 16; lights</p><p>minho doesn’t give a shit about anyone. ever. but when a certain pale, lanky boy with dirty blond shoulder length hair and zircon pair of irises walked into his biology lab one day, that fact, as true as the fall of autumn leaves, had been shattered to the ground. he never thought he could like a person and stargazing this much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when aries glows

 

Let’s get one thing straight: Minho doesn’t give a shit about anyone. Ever.

But when a certain pale, lanky boy with dirty blond shoulder length hair and icy zircon pair of irises walked into his Biology lab one day, that fact, as true as the fall of autumn leaves, had been shattered to the ground. Minho never needed to have a crush on anybody to get attention. He’s got his dimples; brown almond eyes that curves into tiny crescent moons when he smiles; olive complexion and velvety jet black hair, pretty much everything that he’s born with, to attract boys and girls alike without much effort. For all he know, he could be lying dead under the tree on the school lawn and people can just stare dreamily at his perfect body before calling 911. Everyone loves Minho. Imagine his surprise when he finds out that Blue Eyes doesn’t share everyone’s opinion about him. Imagine him getting a reaction he had never gotten before when his teacher assigned him to be lab partners with someone: an eye roll. Yeah, Blue Eyes rolled his eyes, heh, when he heard the name of his lab partner.

At first, Minho took it personally. Honestly, who wouldn’t? Blue Eyes actively tried to do every step of the experiment himself, acting like his partner was nothing but a nuisance, like he would do everything wrong. Minho was honestly excited about the lab activity: studying how liver enzymes work using rat livers that they had to harvest themselves from the said rats, and the Blue Eyes had burst his bubbles before he could even get a hold on the scalpel. Hell, he didn’t even get a hold on the scalpel at all. It was the moment when he realized how much he despises watching people on the sidelines. He’s been a star, the star, for as long as he had lived and no one had ever had the audacity to steal the attention away from him. Minho was so pissed he was determined to do something evil, something more thoroughly calculated than just a punch across his face after Biology lab. He started watching the boy. Follow him around. Watch him have lunch from the cool table. But the more Minho does that, the more his heart softened. Blue Eyes eats his lunch alone. Blue Eyes only talks to one person in this school, and that’s his little sister. And it all seemed like it was his choice, not because no one likes him; it was more like no one noticed him. It clicked to Minho that what had happened in Biology wasn’t personal; Blue Eyes obviously doesn’t like company.

The concept is far too wild for Minho to grasp. He thought it was everyone’s dream to be popular in high school. He never had a problem with that, being the lacrosse captain since his sophomore year made it easy for him; in addition to his godly physique. Blue Eyes had awakened the savior complex he never knew he had in him. All he thought he wanted from the boy was to understand why. Why he doesn’t like people. Why he doesn’t bother making friends despite being a new student and all. But there’s something else, felt in a way lesser extent, that he wants from the boy. Something else that he wouldn’t dare to admit, even to himself; that Minho, the boy who doesn’t give a shit about anything or anyone ever, wants Blue Eyes to like him. Of course he didn’t know when or how it started. All he knew was when the boy was tying his hair back before P.E, his surroundings froze, and the boy moved in slow motion. Then P.E. became a blur for Minho. Somewhere between the sprints and jumping jacks, he caught his own eyes searching for the low blond ponytail. When they went head-to-head for a sprint, Minho felt like flames had engulfed his body whole when he reached the finish, because someone beat him to it. No one had ever beaten Minho in anything. Not in the field, at least. And that someone, who earned the luxury to beat Minho in something he’s best at, was Blue Eyes.

Right then and there it felt like the punch was long overdue; but Minho didn’t go past whiting out his own knuckles. Not when Blue Eyes looked him in the eyes for the first time ever, when his blond locks wasn’t curtaining over those blue–zircon, specifically–orbs. He _scoffed_. Didn’t even smile. He scoffed and jogged back to the start. Minho had already had his mouth open to sarcastically compliment his speed, but he didn’t let him have the chance to. Minho was going to say his name for the first time, but he just scoffed and left. While people in this school tries really hard to be friends with him; to make him remember their names; to sit with him at the cafeteria, Blue Eyes decided to pass on the opportunity. All he ever did to Minho was roll his eyes and scoff at him and he can already keep Minho on his toes and get him to remember his name. Newt. Credits to it being a weird name, but still. Minho remembers. The boy doesn’t remember much. But he does. The mix of hatred and interest had never been so apparent in his head and it intrigued him more than ever. If this was what having a crush entails, then Minho wish he would never, ever had a crush on anybody, ever. He tried so hard to brush off the feelings, but the more he tried, the images of Newt in his head became more vivid. One time Minho missed a shot at a lacrosse game, an image of Newt rolling his zircon eyes at him replays in his head so vividly he had to lie down for a couple of seconds in the field. When medics came to get him, he told them the biggest lie he had ever told: that he was fine. Well, physically, maybe. But even that he wasn’t sure. It left him wondering, if he can get so worked up over a boy who rolled his eyes and scoffed at him, why don’t more people do that to get his attention?

It started as something very small. But even the smallest things can weigh the heaviest if you carry it around for long enough. That’s what Minho had been doing, carrying the feelings around while acting like it’s nothing, up until now. Right now he’s right behind Newt, who is turning in his locker’s combination key, ready to do something to get the weight off his shoulders. “Stop stalking me.” Minho almost forgot the boy has an accent, considering the only time he’s ever talked to him was in Biology three weeks ago. He’s not the least bit nice in the way he talks. It’s either that, or Minho has gotten soft. _Fuck._

“I’m not stalking you.”

“Then walk away. You’re making me uncomfortable.”

“Newt, isn’t it?”

“Amazing. We were in Bio together and you still need to make sure you got my name right.”

“It’s just formality. I know your name’s Newt.”

“Great, you want a cookie?”

“Stop pushing me away!”

“Then walk away!”

Newt turns around. He doesn’t look too happy with Minho being there. In fact, he looks like he wants Minho to go away more than anything in the world. Blue Eyes had never shown any type of emotion before and this is the most Minho had ever seen. His eyes looks like it’s going to frost everything coming his way, but Minho isn’t scared. A little weak in the knees due to the proximity, but not scared. “Look.” Minho says, placing his palm against the books that Newt are holding to his chest. “I don’t know what’s your deal, why you don’t even bother to make friends with people here, or why you hate me so much. You could be a serial killer for all that I know. I just wanna talk. Maybe we can be friends. Everyone needs friends.”

Newt tries to step forward, but Minho’s hand keeps him from doing that. “Get over yourself, Minho. I don’t hate you, you know. Not everything and everyone in this world revolves around you. And I’m not a serial killer.” 

“Then prove me wrong.”

“Alright, what do you want from me?” Blue Eyes finally relents, relaxing his shoulders, letting out a sigh. The ice in his eyes thawed slightly.

“Run with me at the Glade Park later at 5.”

“You want a rematch.”

“Maybe. But I also wanna talk.” 

“I’ll think about it. Can I go now?”

Minho removes his hand from Newt’s books, letting the boy walk. He’s never been so adamant about wanting to talk, and that says a lot about his feelings towards Blue Eyes. He keeps starring at the swaying of his blond locks until he disappears into his class, biting his lips while he’s at it. His teeth might have sunk in too deep to his lip, but he can’t feel anything other than the pounding of his heart. He wouldn’t know what to do if he stood him up. Would he?

__Smart move, Minho._ What if he doesn’t show up? Fuck. _

* * *

Newt had been waiting for almost twenty minutes in Glade Park when Minho shows up. Unamused as always, the boy frowns at the sight of the lacrosse star jogging his way to him. He hates to admit it, but Minho is looking pretty good in that black running jacket and grey sweatpants. He snaps out of his thoughts, and opts for scolding him over complimenting his looks. “You’re wasting my time, Minho.”

“I’m only five minutes late.”

“I’ve been here for twenty.”

“Is it my fault that you’re a punctual nerd?”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Minho, Minho, Minho. _You can’t shit talk yourself out of a crush, dumbass. Shit, did I just say crush?_  If anything, what he did might very well push Newt further away. And himself? He’s just going to like the boy more. More than his limited experience of having meaningful relationships could ever afford. _Think fast, you’re Minho. Come on. Don’t look at those long legs in those blue shorts. It’s fucking December, how can he wear such short shorts? Up, up, look up! God, he’s making this so damn hard._

“Alright, I’m sorry.”

“You’re making it very hard for me to stay, you know.”

“I said I’m sorry, alright?” he pauses, casting his gaze into Newt’s icy blue eyes. “Let’s get on with the rematch, how’s that sound?”

“Terrible. I hate this park.”

“You have a better idea?”

Then there it is. A smile. Small, but a smile at least, at last. The ice he has for eyes flickers in delight, warming Minho’s heart.

“Race you.”

Newt swings his long legs fast, much to Minho’s surprise, heading towards the perimeter of the park. The black haired boy prides himself for his fast reflexes, but those icy blue eyes and a low ponytail of dirty blond locks got him good. Still, he races him after a split second of zoning out, following the taller boy out of the park. They end up running a couple blocks away, and Minho doesn’t have any idea where Newt is taking him. He starts complaining when they arrive at the outskirts of housing areas, running towards the woods.

“Are you trying to get us killed?” Minho whines.

“What?” Newt gasps, trying to catch his breath while slowing down to allow himself to talk. “No.”

“Why are we running towards the woods? Are you trying to kill me?”

“Oh, come on, don’t be such a priss.” Newt chuckles. _Chuckles_. “I’m not a serial killer, Princess. Just follow me.”

“This isn’t a fair rematch. You’re the only one who knows where we’re going. I want a rematch of a rematch.” Minho ends up rambling, earning a giggle from Newt. If his heart could speak, it would’ve been yelling at him for putting such a strain over its muscles. On top of running, it has to pump faster because his brain is releasing a rush of endorphins just from looking at Blue Eyes chuckling. It’s a cute little high pitched chuckle that doesn’t match his cold eyes or his personality. Or everything about him that he’s been showing in front of Minho, really. _Where the fuck did that giggle come from?_

“Will you stop whining? We’re almost there.”

They’re heading towards a lookout that Minho had only ever heard of. He never had a thing for an outdoorsy date; he’s not exactly the thoughtful/romantic type either, but here he is. _Not that this is a date. Is it?_ He’s feeling the strain on his calves as they slow down to a jog, his heart almost exploding from circulating so much blood. It’s not that Minho is a lousy runner, we all know it’s not the case here, everything’s just way too overwhelming for Minho to process all at once. Newt had never seemed so contagiously excited and giggly, and it gets to him good, brewing up chemicals that are messing with his brain. “We’re here.” Newt grins, but Minho can’t quite see him. The sky had gone completely dark, leaving only strands of Newt’s golden locks and fluorescent stripes on his sneakers visible. As for himself, he’s pretty much disappeared in the dark. Then he notices the view the lookout offers: a spread of the city at night seen from possibly the best vantage point, with thousands of lights glowing in the distance. Some dim, some bright, some white and yellow and even red, but all beautiful.

“Wow. The view’s amazing.” he had completely forgotten about the rematch.

“That’s not the best part. Lie down.” Newt gestures to the bed of grass, but he forgot that Minho can’t really see him. “Look up to the sky.”

Like a canopy, bright stars pepper across the onyx night sky, emitting faint halo around them, arranged in some sort of shape Minho can’t really make out. The word ethereal had never fit so perfectly to something, until now. “The stars didn’t look like this the last time I see them.” he gasps in awe while settling himself on the damp prickly grass.

“Thanks to smog. Here, the air is much cleaner. How come you’ve never been here?”

“Never thought I’d like stargazing this much.”

The two fall silent, still catching their breaths, steadying the rise and fall of their chests. Without even realizing, both are starring at the same constellation: one that glows the brightest, its halo twinkling and dimming rhythmically, inviting, enchanting.

“Do you know the name of the constellations?”

“Not all of them. I use an app to find out.” Newt takes out his phone, tapping the screen a few times before showing Minho the app. “See, it uses the camera to look at the stars, and it’ll connect the dots for you.”

“Oh, cool. What’s that one?” he points the camera to the one he’s been starring at.

The blond smiles from ear to ear. “That’s Aries, my favorite constellation. It’s the brightest in December.”

“No way. My star sign is Aries.”

“Nice.” Newt shoots Minho a smile, one that he can see under the light of his phone. He lets him have his phone to explore the sky. Meanwhile the air hangs heavy around him, almost suffocating, in a way worse than running does. He doesn’t realize how close the two of them had been on the ground until he smells a faint scent of his cologne, light and musky, making his heart flutter. This had never been the plan at all, to notice every little detail about Minho, to actually feel kind of lightheaded and breathless around him. But damn, does he smell nice. Their knees brush as he folds his leg up, sending sparks of electricity along his nerves. What kind of fool agreed to a running rematch with his opponent, then turn it into a stargazing date with said person? A fool that takes a liking to their opponent. _Shit._

“I thought you wanted a rematch.” Newt manages as soon as his breathing steadied. Minho looks keen on finding out each and every constellation’s name, almost like he’s forgotten that the other boy was there.

“Huh? Nah, truce, you won, whatever.” his eyes are still glued to the phone, tone flippant as always. “Dude, this is fun.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, um. And it’s definitely a coincidence that my star sign is your favorite constellation, right?” This time, he looks at the pale boy–who isn’t so pale anymore because his cheeks are washed in bright pink.

“Definitely.” he snickers.

The lacrosse player rolls to his side, using the phone to illuminate the blond’s features. In a serious tone, he asks, “Newt, do you like boys?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Minho.” he tries to pry his phone from the other’s hand, but end up holding his hand and lowers it to the ground between them, his blue eyes clashing with Minho’s dark brown orbs. The jock internally grins, warmth washing over his skin, breaths deep and steady.  _Fuck, Blue Eyes, didn’t think I’d get this far._ Without the slightest hint of doubt, the two lean in, molding their lips together. Love doesn’t give a shit that Minho’s an ignorant brat. Blue Eyes had flipped a switch in his head and turn him into someone who’s capable of caring. He’s a far cry from being affectionate, but now he’s willing to try.

And it all just happens, in moments unique to each and every pair.

For them, it was when Aries glows.


End file.
